


Trysting

by silklace



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 23:14:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11839026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silklace/pseuds/silklace
Summary: Thomas leaves a note for Jimmy to find.





	Trysting

**Author's Note:**

> For starrythomas, who wanted something happy for our boys.

“James.” Thomas watches an indecipherable expression flicker across Jimmy’s face before it’s replaced by cautious neutrality. He straightens from where he’s slouching with what Thomas can only describe as indolence at the servant’s dining table. A cup of tea stands next to his elbow, milky and tepid looking. 

Thomas deposits the tray of silver in front of Jimmy. “Courtesy of Mr. Carson,” he says, smirking. Ivy and Alfred are carefully pretending to be occupied staring at their fingers, while Anna appears absorbed in darning the lace edge of a dress, though if Thomas knows anything she’s got one ear cocked in attention.

“This’ll take me all afternoon,” Jimmy says, each word edged in what sounds like restrained fury, but Thomas knows if you listen hard enough, it’s all despair, bright and hard and relentless. 

“Then I wouldn’t let Mr. Carson catch me with a cuppa and looking breezy as a lad at a picnic, eh?” Thomas says, eyes flicking around the room. A flush suffuses the back of Jimmy’s neck, but he says nothing. 

Thomas leans forward, casually dropping his palm on Jimmy’s shoulder. He plucks the smoking cigarette from the ash tray in front of Jimmy and raises it to his mouth. His pinky is pressed to the warm skin of Jimmy’s throat.

The cigarette end is a little damp from Jimmy’s mouth, and Thomas takes a deep drag off of it as Jimmy watches him, eyes dark, a narrow, hectic flush on his cheeks. Thomas taps the silver sugar bowl with one finger. “Well, better hurry, or else you’ll be polishing in the dark.” He taps the bowl again. “Wouldn’t want that.”

+++

The sun is lowering on the edge of the summer horizon, gold still washing over the lawns and fringing the heavy-leafed trees with orange-burnished gilt, when Thomas enters the old greenhouse shed, a somewhat dilapidated building on the furthest reaches of the property. 

Jimmy looks up, one blonde curl falling across his forehead. “Hullo,” he says, the corner of his mouth pulling into a sharp, pleased smile. 

“You got my note.” Thomas’ fingers find the rusty latch and push it closed. 

“Weren’t really subtle,” Jimmy parries, dropping his cigarette under his foot while miming Thomas’ tapping from earlier. 

“Oh, well,” Thomas says, sliding the buttons on his jacket open. “I’m sure next time you’ll think of something better, right?” He steps forward. “Like the time you faked ill so well that Mrs. Hughes insisted Dr. Clarkson check you over – that was all according to plan, was it?” 

“Just shut up and get over here,” Jimmy says, but Thomas already has his hands on him, palms cupping his face as he leans in and kisses him, hard and full of wanting. It almost hurts, but Jimmy kisses him back with equal hunger, fingers scrabbling along his back and trying to pull Thomas closer. When Thomas reaches down and aligns their bodies, pushing Jimmy so his back is against the stone wall, hips canted forward, Jimmy moans low and deep in the back of his throat. 

He lips at Thomas’ mouth, eyes half-lidded. “Suck on my tongue,” he says imperious and drowsy all at once, though Thomas has learned that his orders are always questions, that he’s never so vulnerable as when he’s telling Thomas what he likes or what to do. 

Thomas kisses him first, presses the shape of his smile against the corner of Jimmy’s mouth so that he can share in his delight, then parts his lips and lets Jimmy press his tongue inside. He slides his tongue along Jimmy’s, the back of his neck prickling with the strange pleasure of it, then seals his lips around Jimmy’s tongue and sucks gently. Jimmy’s fingers are white-knuckled, grasping at his shoulders. “Will you --,” he breathes, the question aborted and barely thought into being before Jimmy pulls the words back. “I won’t – it won’t take me long.” 

Thomas kisses the thin, blue skin underneath Jimmy’s left eye. “I always want you,” he says, reassuring and warm. Then he drops to his knees and sets about undoing Jimmy’s trousers while Jimmy trembles above him, breath coming hard. 

Thomas sucks his prick languorously at first, rolling his tongue along the pink head, letting Jimmy press his hand along his cheek to feel the shape of himself inside Thomas’ mouth, but it’s not long before he feels the muscles bunching in Jimmy’s thighs, hears the high, tense pitch of Jimmy’s breathing, and then he uses his hand to jack him as he sucks more firmly on the head until Jimmy’s come is in his mouth and he’s swallowing, one hand pressed against Jimmy’s hip to keep him standing. 

For a moment, there’s silence, and then Jimmy is muttering, low, “C’mere, Thomas, please, c’mere.” Thomas stands and lets Jimmy run his hands from the back of his head and down around his throat to slide along the planes of his chest and belly, before cupping Thomas between the legs, both palms pressing and rubbing. Jimmy noses along the line of Thomas’ jaw, while Thomas tries to pretend that his heart isn’t remaking itself under Jimmy’s hands, like he tries to pretend every time Jimmy touches him, or kisses him, or looks at him like he’s an answer to a question he didn’t know he was asking. 

Jimmy licks his palm – not taking his eyes off of Thomas – and slips his hand inside Thomas’ trousers. “One day,” he says, leaning back in to draw his mouth along the line of Thomas’ jaw, “it’s going to be just us, just you and me, not in this fuckin’ prison,” he breathes, his words turning hard-edged with something pent and longing, “where I only get to see you when it pleases our lords, and where I don’t know what it’s like to sleep next to you, or to kiss you in the morning, or put my mouth on your cock for more than a few moments.” 

He twists his hand and Thomas gasps, hips buckling forward. Neither of them will last long, perpetually half-starved as they are. 

“I want to come kissing you,” Thomas says, pressing his palm against the side of Jimmy’s throat. “I love you, Jimmy.”

Jimmy moans, squeezing his eyes shut and keeping up the pace of his hand. “We’re going to get our own place, Thomas,” he says, each word bitten out and kissed into Thomas’ jaw. “Our own flat, and you’re going to teach me how to sod you properly, ‘cause I think about it all the time, all the bloody time, how much I want to be inside you,” he says, and kisses Thomas hard on the mouth. Thomas comes with Jimmy’s hand on him, his mouth pressed against his own. 

When their breathing has steadied, they part, hands lingering over each other as they help the other right themselves. Jimmy uses his handkerchief to wipe his soiled hand and Thomas takes it from him. “What’re you – you don’t have to --,” Jimmy starts, but Thomas kisses the frown line that’s appeared on his forehead. 

“S’alright,” he says, “I’ll wash it for you.”

“You’re always taking care of me.”

“I want to,” Thomas says, looking for his jacket. There’s a pregnant silence, and he looks over to see Jimmy searching the floor, eyes troubled. Thomas finds Jimmy’s face with his hands. “I like to, Jimmy.” He swallows, “If – if men like us…were allowed to, I’d stand in front of God and country and vow to spend the rest of my life taking care of you. If I could, Jimmy,” he says, throat catching, “I would.”

“Al -,” Jimmy’s voice breaks and his eyes are very bright. He tries again. “Alright,” he says softly. “Yes.” He smiles then and touches the corner of Thomas’ mouth with his thumb. “Alright,” he says again. 

When they emerge from the shed, the sun is still lingering on the edge of the horizon, blush pink and threaded with lavender, and they walk across the long lawns towards the Abbey under its blessing light, the backs of their necks warmed and their palms reaching towards each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Feedback/con-crit welcome and adored! <3


End file.
